


Damage Control

by Aquiter



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games)
Genre: Fear of Abandonment, Gore, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 07:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17894201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquiter/pseuds/Aquiter
Summary: A mission gone wrong leaves Francis entirely in the hands of Adam who has to bring the techician back from the moment he was at gunpoint, and the room was silent...We just want them to touch each other, gently.





	Damage Control

Adam looked both ways when they crossed the street. For now, they blended in with the crowd moving around them. But Adam felt out of place as he watched Francis walk in front of him, his steps too coordinated. The times when you catch yourself walking and you start thinking about each step, trying to look normal, but you end up almost tripping over yourself, that was Francis right now.

It had been Francis for the last few blocks they had walked, and Adam felt like he was herding a single horse from behind, somewhere you did not necessarily want to be if that horse felt threatened and panicked.

Finally, Adam saw a familiar building and Francis turned. Up the stairs, down the corridor, through the door. It locked behind them and locked them in a dark room.

Adam could see well still, but Francis was standing still, frozen in place. The room was too dark for the lesser augmented man to see, let alone navigate. Adam scooted around Francis without making contact and found a candle. He picked up the lighter and lit the wick already burned, the room took on a dim yellow light.

Looking around some more with his smart vision, Adam took note of the items they had. He was about to tell Francis, but the other man was watching him with an intense focus, already taking in the information. Adam decided to take out a towel instead and give it to Francis.

And it was needed because Francis was filthy. For some peculiar reason Francis had been sent with Adam on this mission, taken out of his comfortable office into hostile territory, and given a handgun in case things went wrong. It couldn’t have gone much worse in Adam’s head. Their point of infiltration had been blocked off mere minutes after they entered, the server room had been moved and upgraded, security was tighter than reported, and when the time came, Francis was unable to pull the trigger.

Adam had been forced to lose his workmate or traumatise Francis for the near future. The choice was easy, but the consequences were more difficult than Adam had been prepared for.

Francis hadn’t spoken since then.

He nodded at Adam and began stripping out of the borrowed clothing he had been given for this mission. His bright orange jacket wouldn’t do any good, so he had been outfitted in a black hoodie instead, a tank top underneath. Both came off easily. Adam gave Francis a newly lit candle for him to bring into the shower.

The tech disappeared.

Adam sat in the room by a table, on an old chair, alone. He busied himself with writing a report with some items laying around. An old notebook, an unsharpened pencil, the candle to give him light.

Some unsaid time later Adam heard something drop in the bathroom and even though he was tired and worn he reacted quickly. The handgun was cradled in his hands as he approached the bathroom door. He put an ear to the wood and listened, avoiding using his smart vision.

The weapon was lowered to his side, worry building up in his throat. He never meant to pry, especially not when Francis obviously needed some time alone.

But the undisturbed spray of the shower hitting tiles gave him a bad vibe.

For a split second, he activated his smart vision and glanced briefly to see where Francis was.

The outline of the other man was huddled in a corner, and that sight alone was enough to alarm Adam who had seen one or two incidents when someone had a breakdown. He was quick to enter the bathroom, trying to not be too quiet about it, but not loud enough to startle Francis when he pushed the shower curtain to the side.

It wouldn’t have mattered either way.

Francis’ eyes were startled, pupils dilated beyond necessary to tackle the dim lightning, but not in affection. His eyes had a faded look to them, disassociated with reality. Reliving another scene. The trembling hand raised at Adam reminded him what was happening.

The time Francis had been shoved to the ground, forced to point his gun at someone, but unable to pull that trigger when he needed to. His assailant had been towering over him until one of Adam’s Nano-blades gutted the man, throwing him to the side. Francis had been sprayed with red.

Adam kneeled to Francis’ eye level, bringing the showerhead down with him. Gently he washed off any grime Francis had missed before he discarded the nozzle and turned the water off, reaching for the towel and wrapping Francis.

He had still not gotten any response from the tech. When he picked the lighter frame up from the floor, Francis was almost limp in his arms as he carried him to one of the beds, sitting the other down. Adam made sure the towel stayed wrapped around the shoulders of the tech before he put some new clothing beside him.

Adam also needed a shower, the close combat situations he had to solve left him equally filthy, if not more, than Francis. Only difference was that Adam was used to it by now. The crackling of dried blood on the skin he had left didn’t bother him as much. The sight of crimson streaks running off his augments didn’t disturb him. The image of being wrist deep into someone’s gut didn’t leave a lasting dent in his mental health.

Adam stepped into the shower, rinsed, stepped out and dried. He barely had time to button his pants when he heard a noise from the other room. He peeked his head through the opening to the room and saw Francis, his legs tucked up to his chest and face hidden between the knees, shoulder shaking.

The loud sound of tears hitting the wooden floor.

Adam could not stand by and see this unfold. He approached Francis and sat down beside the other, startled when arms quickly took him around his waist and shoulders to pull him in tight.

He could feel each cry choked back, each warm breath Francis forced out without a sound against his collarbone, each time the hands clawing at him for comfort needed more.

With each cry Francis held back, Adam wanted to scream. Each breath Francis let out, Adam had to force in. Each mark Francis left on him, Adam wanted to soothe the panic unravelling itself in the tech’s confused state of mind.

Adam let a hand find a comfortable spot on Francis’ lower back, drawing small circles to distract whatever emotion was rushing at Francis. His other hand gently encircled Francis’ wrist on his shoulder, his thumb caressed the back of a hand.

The heavier augmented one of them outputted extra heat. Warmth would maybe lull Francis to a state where they could talk. But Adam would give the other whatever time he needed.

After half an hour, or so it felt like, the comfortable silence they had created for each other to sit in was disturbed.

Adam had just wanted to let Francis calm down, but the tech’s breathing had slowed down to a rhythmic inhale and exhale, indicating that he was on the very edge of falling asleep, still embracing the other. Adam knew Francis would need some sleep, but they both had to eat. He let his hand, which had been drawing circles for this whole time, stop and Adam let it run through the mess of hair which had been released from Francis’ ponytail. It was tangled, Adam noted when his fingers got caught on knots.

Before anything else, maybe making Francis a bit more comfortable with the current situation was a priority, Adam decided. He looked around and located a brush, gently rousing Francis so the man could sit up by himself, before he retrieved the item.

He knew how to do this without hurting the one whose hair he was brushing, but Francis refused to turn his back to Adam. His body kept following Adam, refusing to budge when Adam attempted to turn him.

In the end, Adam kneeled in front of Francis, still avoiding towering above the traumatised man. His arms reached around Francis and gently brushed the hair free from any knots and ties until he could run the brush through with smooth, unhindered, movements.

Through the entire time, Francis had avoided too much eye contact with Adam, blue-grey eyes meeting his green ones for a moment before looking away. But each time those icy crystals decided to look up, emerald jewels would be there, waiting.

Adam put the brush down on the bed beside Francis, his hand wandering slightly to rest on a pale thigh, bruised skin. Adam made a mental note to see if Francis had any significant injuries that had to be taken care of.

The larger man stood and made his way over to the box with rations. He pulled out two bags and began preparing their meals, hands moving to make sure both meals would be done at the same time. Adam only stopped when he heard the soft padding of feet come up behind him and saw one pale hand find its way into one of the belt loops and tug lightly. As if making sure he was still there.

Adam turned around slowly and met Francis’ eyes, this time holding each other in the moment much longer. Tears welled up in Francis’ eyes, again, and the hand locked in the loop of his belt tugged Adam closer. It wasn’t forced, not by any means was it a strong tug. It felt more like Francis begged for Adam to reassure him he wasn’t alone.

Adam glanced quickly at the food before he pulled Francis into a hug. He rested his chin on the top of Francis’ head, breathing slowly and audibly to make sure Francis followed suit, trying to avoid another panic attack. After a short time, Adam let his head drop and his lips pressed firmly against Francis’ forehead, arms squeezing one more time before he turned and continued heating their meals.

Adam couldn’t avoid noticing the fingers still lopped in his pants the entire time until he was done and ripped open the now warm bags filled with food. He put a spoon in each one and walked to sit down at the table, Francis followed like a pet on a leash, sitting down right next to Adam.

Their chairs touched, shoulders moved against each other as they ate, hips making contact when Francis moved impossibly closer to sit partly on Adam’s chair, knees bumping under the table.

When they were finished and put down the items in their hands, Adam turned to Francis and gently took a hold of one of Francis’ wrists. He let his fingers wander to press in different spots of the bruised flesh. Francis seemed to get the message and gave Adam his other wrist when Adam reached the elbow, the hoodie in the way for Adam to go further up.

Adam pushed his chair out and motioned for Francis to put up one leg in his lap. Slowly Francis did so, the motion was filled with pain. Adam began at the foot, pressing on the underside, then moving the ankle, fingers running across the shin, pinching the Achille’s tendon. The knee seemed to be the source of Francis’ previous painful motion.

Adam noted that and repeated the actions on the other leg. When that was done, Francis hesitated before he pulled the hoodie over his head, revealing bruises that were getting darker and angrier looking since the time Adam saw him in the shower. The risk of internal injuries was possible, but Adam hadn’t seen Francis take any blows enough to cause fatal damage.

Polymer hands reached out to assess the damage, but except the ache from bruising skin, Francis was fine.

Adam stood, and Francis did the same. It was a silent game of _Simon says_ as Adam walked to sit down on the bed again, quickly joined by Francis who sat down as close as possible to the other. His back turned away from Adam.

Adam put one hand on Francis’ back and let it roam. Francis refused to turn, and Adam didn’t want to force him to do something he didn’t want to yet. He trusted Francis to tell him if there was a problem.

It had been dark outside for a long time, and now their energy began dying down after the meal. Even though the beds creaked when Adam sat down in the other one, and the light from the candle wasn’t enough to chase any night terrors away, the fact that Francis followed him was worrying.

The leaner one sat still for a while. Then Adam decided it had been long enough and moved to lie down. Adam pulled his legs up on the bed while pulling the covers out from underneath him to crawl in under them, only pulling them up to his waist. Francis moved to face Adam.

Adam saw the hand in view grab a fistful of fabric and hold it with white knuckles, but if Francis had anything to say he would have to talk, because Adam closed his eyes and let darkness fill his mind.

The bed jostled just as Adam was falling asleep. The cold body slowly moving closer, still outside the warmth the covers held, was hesitating. Adam sighed deeply.

“What are you so scared of, Francis?” Adam asked, one hand raising the covers to invite Francis closer.

Francis was about to move closer, but before he had the chance to move on his own Adam grabbed him forcefully and pulled him in close, his chest to Francis’ back. The covers landed, tucking them in.

“You have nothing to be afraid of now, Francis,” Adam let his gravelly voice rumble through his chest, strong arms pulling Francis in even closer. For now, just embracing the other without a chance to escape, “I won’t leave you, and I won’t let you leave.”

At the last sentence, Francis seemed to relax. Finally responding, “I feared being alone, Adam. I’m not scared anymore.”

The night passed, and nobody moved.

**Author's Note:**

> Francis refuse to turn his back to Adam because he is afraid the same will happen to him like what happened to the man he couldn't shoot.
> 
> Also, Francis is just too fucking cute I'm sorry. He just needs hugs. And Adam is happy to give him that.


End file.
